5. On This Body, Information Received & Energy Noticed

I used to feel cursed by the plethora of information my body gave me.  It mostly felt bad.  The spread of hives across my chest, up my neck, to the base of my ears where the flush would burn and itch.  Inner anxiety impossible to hide at the long cafeteria table,  the one closest to the entrance of the room filled with voices and cliques.  Someone bound to ask why I was suddenly red, desperate to get through the moment of discomfort without the fire alarm of my body flashing to alert any and all in proximity.  

A heartbeat that runs just a little too fast, just a little too often.  The invisible weight from shoulder to shoulder, across a décolletage, one that nobody warned would age without daily application of SPF.  

The nagging and sinking of disappointment.  Felt inside just as much as noticed in the accompanying mind chatter.  Body equipped with an internal barometer that displays a preview before eyes even open, mind fog to match cloudy days.

Gut so sensitive to food that ‘gut reaction’ is indiscernible from a gut that was attempting to process all sorts of things (gluten, dairy) that it cannot.  Constantly afraid that any gut pain was the precursor to being sick.  

For a very long time, my body felt like my worst enemy.  Something unreliable, apt to betray me at any time.

Followed the energy on a rainy day to get some brain-heavy writing done for a client so that when the sun came out, I was able to guiltlessly hang out with the wildlife

Last year I set out to have an experience, see some new things, and take notice of any information I was meant to have.  Folks constantly asked if I was looking for somewhere to relocate in searching for the purpose for a 6 month solo roadtrip.  Because others strongly desire a rationale beyond what I could give- “I got inspired during COVID, and now I’m doing it.”  

I noticed information about places I enjoyed, places that I did NOT enjoy.  I noticed locations that were aesthetically pleasing, yet wildly culturally appropriative and offensive.  I noticed places where folks were generally friendly and easy to spark conversations with.  I noticed places so dense with things TO DO that it would be too easy to hemorrhage money on a longer visit.  I noticed places where I felt heavy and questioned the whole thing.  I noticed when folks I met casually or not so casually suggested that I consider their town for a future home, despite being given no suggestion I was looking for one.  

I noticed all of these things and let it all rest because I committed to myself to stay in whatever experiences arose from my (hours and months and years) of planning.  As with most completions, I got some questions after the 2023 trip about what was next.  I knew I was closing my child therapy practice, and that was precisely because of information I noticed about my energy repeatedly doing that work on my trip last year.  At the time the plan was temporary and explorative.  Aside from possibly giving up a career I’d poured my life into, what other decisions would I even make?!

Some decisions are easy, such as which beautiful foods to source from a local farmer’s market

This year, I set out on a completely different trajectory.  Little to no plans, a rough outline of an itinerary including some new and repeat stops, a concert to attend, and a flexible reservation on a little island in the Puget Sound.  

I keep noticing the information from my body.  These days with more appreciation and less fear.  Traveling solo, particularly as a female identifying human, I have to trust particularly when my body says no.  Not this stop for the night.  Not this person to chat with on the trail.  

AND, I’m most interested in what my body has been saying YES to.  Yes to adventures.  Yes to new friends.  Yes to the lifting and spreading of tingly joyful energy that emerged after I crossed the WA border almost a month and a half ago now.  

Yes to cat sitting, which in turn meant yes to the softest place to land, with one of the best people I could be with to process grief, yet again, on the road.  Yes to walks to listen to the sea lions grumble.  Yes to a connection made landing a dog sitting gig on the same peninsula.  Yes to the new friends who have land on the way to a destination I’m feeling out for a next leg of this journey.  Yes to this newsletter that I’m going to post while it is still technically September, and give myself the opportunity to share without revising as if my readers are going to report me to a future publisher.  

Noticing beautiful things and beautiful moments

This is a short one folks.  There are threads of at least 3 longer newsletters I have partially drafted.  Some drafted for the purpose of Soft Place to Land.  Some drafted in the writing intensives with Jeannine Oulette at Writing in the Dark, and now I’m participating in her 9 month “slow-writing program,” WITD: The School.  More and more of that will show up here.  Because as always everything is connected, even when we don’t see it. 

Reader Invitation 💌📝:

If your energy sent you a message in a bottle and only had a few lines for the most important message, what might it say? Notice what comes up as a felt sensation along with the story your mind weaves in response to the question. They are both relevant.

TLDR:

I’ve been noticing what my energy has to tell me.  I am still on the road, next destination TBD.  I have very few answers about what is next.  

Land Acknowledgement:

I’ve spent a good portion of the last month plus in different parts of what is now known as Washington State, publishing today from the ancestral territories of Cayuse, Umatilla and Walla Walla Peoples, in addition to spending time on other ancestral lands of tribes including the Nisqually; Quinalt; Queets; & Puyallup Peoples.

When not nomading, I primarily live and work on the ancestral territory of the Piscataway and Susquehannock Peoples.  Both tribes were displaced. In the case of the Piscataway, the land was reported to be ceded but we recognize impact over intent here and ceded is language of the oppressor that means forcibly persuaded.  The lands of the Susquehannock were stolen after broken treatise and encroachment of colonial settlers.  I thank those who cared for this land before their forced removal and recognize the many forms of harm and violence that occurred for me to live and work here today.  

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